


What They Want

by rane_ab



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Asexuality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rane_ab/pseuds/rane_ab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for <i>kinkme_merlin</i>, in response to the prompt <i>They are in love, but one of them is asexual.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	What They Want

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't have any experience with asexuality. I did a bit of research, but if this is somehow unrealistic or causes offence, I apologise. Certainly not all asexuals will feel like Bradley does in this. Also, this story only ever happened in my head.
> 
> A/N: Beta'ed by _sgrio_ , after I won her services over at _help_haiti_. Any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> (Please note that this was originally written in 2009, when we knew less about Bradley and Colin, and the filming process. So in this fic, they have trailers, and Colin does eat ice cream. :))

It’s amazing how much this thing with Colin has changed him.

Bradley used to think that sex was disgusting. Well, part of him still thinks it’s a bit… messy, but it’s worth it, for this: for Colin arching under his touch, moaning _Bradley_ in a raw, broken voice that he would never use in any other circumstance. Bradley is pretty sure Colin couldn’t even act it, which means Bradley’s the only one who ever gets to hear it (and the thought of someone else seeing Colin like this, open and wanting and practically begging with his body does _not_ make something burn viciously in the pit of his stomach).

Colin’s lying on his back in the hotel room bed; he always insists on turning the lights down low, supposedly to make things easier on Bradley, but Bradley quite likes Colin’s body. Likes the way his long toes curl when he’s uncomfortable, or unbearably aroused; likes the too-skinny legs that Colin never really knows what to do with, and which end up shuffling restlessly against the sheets; likes the softness of Colin’s belly where Bradley rests his head when they’re just lying about. He certainly doesn’t mind running his fingers up Colin’s torso, fingers riding the wave of his ribs to gently rub a nipple if it makes him whimper like that.

Most of all, though, Bradley likes the familiarity of Colin’s body, the way it feels warm and comfortable beneath his palms – the way it’s his and only his to touch.

Bradley’s glad he’s thought to wear a soft pair of trousers, so that he can press close to Colin’s side without having to worry about any chafing, feel the heat of Colin’s skin through the thin layers of clothing, feel the arch and tremble of Colin’s body against his own.

Bradley’s found he still doesn’t like being naked for this. He’s never liked it when people touched him _that_ way, feeling embarrassed and used, and as though his body were not his own, but this, this has become surprisingly easy: wrapping his hand around Colin’s cock and watching him fall apart.

It wasn’t always like this. He remembers being a teenager, desperately wanting someone, anyone, to fill the gap inside his chest, but never desiring them the way they wanted him to; remembers giving distracting handjobs to keep their hands from wandering too far, the look of confusion (rejection, rejection, but Bradley tried for the longest time not to think of that) on their faces when they finally figured him out. ‘But you told me you liked guys!’ one of them shouted at him, emphasis wavering between the two last words.

And Bradley does, but he’s never found the words to explain that they make him feel good, like he belongs, like they could, perhaps, complete him in a way he’s never felt with a girl, but that he still doesn’t want to have sex with them. So he ended up sticking with being friends, and that was all right, because Bradley was great at meeting people and making friends, if he did say so himself.

He’d honestly thought he’d never want to do _that_ with anyone again – until he met Colin. It was ironic, really: he didn’t even like Colin all that much to begin with. Colin was all right, he supposed, but honestly, he couldn’t understand half of what the guy said, and he found no immediate evidence of him being nearly as fantastic as everyone claimed he was.

But Bradley – Bradley was as easy as they came, and if he was required to get to know Colin better for the sake of their working relationship, well, then, he’d just go along with the flow. Even if Colin’s flow rather tended to leave him at sea. He couldn’t escape the feeling that behind that mask of awkward politeness, Colin was sometimes laughing at him. And that – now, that just fuelled Bradley’s competitive streak: he started filching Colin’s books, hiding them in the most unlikely places, making mocking comments just to see how he’d react. Mostly, Colin reacted by laughing and saying something unintelligible, but Bradley counted it as an improvement.

As Colin’s laughter became less self-conscious over time, Bradley found his own smiles turned more genuine, and there was a day when he realised he could not only understand Colin’s accent (mostly), but also his sense of humour (… sometimes). The thing was, behind the layers of professionalism, Colin was ridiculous. Bradley liked that, that ridiculousness, and that he let Bradley see it; he liked, too, that when Bradley rested his hand on Colin’s shoulder, Colin didn’t go tense all over the way he tended to do with anyone else when he was not in front of the camera.

Bradley accidentally blustered his way past Colin’s reserve and natural shyness, and what was on the other side was certainly worth knowing; he didn't have words in which to capture Colin, but ‘crazy and funny and kind, and sometimes a bit anal’ was certainly all true. In spite of all their differences, there was something there, something that made Bradley want to smile, that made him feel warm and right whenever Colin was around, the way he never had before. It also made his heart beat faster when Colin would turn to him, conspiring look in his eye and cheeky smile curving his mouth, trusting Bradley with everything he was.

About half-way through shooting the first season, they found themselves at a pub with most of the cast, practising their horrible French on the staff. They may have ended up with a drink or two (or five) that they didn’t expect, but Colin, being the polite bloke he was, drank it all. He and Bradley ended up huddled together, making outrageous jokes about Uther’s facial expressions while Tony pretended to scowl at them. And under the hot glare of the castle-shaped candles haphazardly strewn across the tables, laughing, clutching at their sides, sharing the same breathing space and the same mad sense of humour, Bradley found he didn’t care how special people thought Colin was – as long as he could have this, it was all fine with him.

Bradley’s throat ached the day Colin kissed him behind one of the trailers, eyes bright and teasing and happy, and Bradley found that he couldn’t get enough breath, somehow. Bradley’s hands shook, later that night, when he shoved one of Katie’s fizzy, pink alcoholic drinks towards Colin and asked him to empty it. He insisted, though maybe it was more to gain time than hoping the alcohol would soften the blow, and Colin’s luminous expression had turned into a frown by then.

After, there was a ringing silence, and when Bradley finally dared look up, Colin’s expression was one of pure shock. Bradley walked out and tried not to think about how he’d lost another friend.

It was two days later that Colin sidled up to him and asked, in a tone that didn’t quite make it to casual, ‘So you don’t do relationships at all, then?’ Their conversation ended with Bradley giving him a bone-crushing hug, trying to inhale Colin, as though that was possible, and Colin hugged back, Bradley thinking _maybe, maybe (please)_.

Their relationship started out with equal parts joy and awkwardness. They got on just as well as they had before, better, even, if that were possible, Colin seeming to want to make up for their lack of physical intimacy by sharing as many other things as possible with Bradley, whether it was stories from his youth, secret smiles, or his chocolate-chip ice cream: things Bradley had never seen him share with anyone before. It sometimes left Bradley bemused, but he certainly found no reason to complain.

It was hardly that they never touched, though: Bradley liked touching, casually resting his hand on Colin’s back, or his arm, stepping just a little too far into his personal space. Bradley liked kissing, too, enjoyed the intimacy of it, the feel of Colin’s lips beneath his mouth. He wasn’t mad about tongue, but he’d overcome his initial revulsion a long time ago, when he was still pretending to be like everyone else, and he was prepared to make compromises.

After a while, though, it was hard to miss the way Colin would sometimes press against Bradley, hands running up and down his back just the way Bradley liked, and then abruptly shift his lower body away. More and more often, their kissing sessions would end with Colin mumbling an excuse and hastily retreating. Bradley could imagine to do what, and at first, it made him feel helpless and inadequate. But then, one day, he was looking at the flush burning bright on Colin’s cheeks as he stared at the ground, stammering about needing to talk to Johnny about – about – something (vital, apparently), before limping away.

And Bradley couldn’t help it: he laughed, long and loud, leaning his hands on his knees.

He ended up banging on the door of Colin’s trailer, shouting, ‘Hurry it up, Morgan! You’re not famous enough yet to make the entire cast and crew wait just because you need to have a wank!’

Colin looked absolutely mortified when he finally emerged, and Bradley gave him his broadest grin, before whacking him across the arse with Arthur’s sword and pulling his face into a mock-sympathetic expression.

‘Don’t worry, mate, I know I’m irresistible. I won’t hold it against you.’

Only when he saw Colin’s face shift did he realise how much he’d needed to hear that, how guilty this must have made him feel, and Bradley’s heart squeezed in a way he would never own up to.

Bradley felt that it was no more than a natural progression, from there, to start teasing Colin about it. He’d pull out of their embrace just as he thought Colin might be about to, tilting up his own chin and arching his eyebrow the way Arthur would, saying, ‘ _Merlin._ Don’t you have any… _buttons_ you should be polishing, _Merlin_?’ Or he’d casually stretch out on the bed when he waited for Colin to get ready to head out with the rest of them, watching Colin’s eyes widen comically before he got a hold of himself. (One time Colin walked straight back into the bathroom and didn’t come out for another five minutes. Bradley was torn between feeling smug and blushing.) And sometimes, sometimes, he’d let his own hands wander, touching Colin in inappropriate places that made him shiver and stutter, unable to look at Bradley, and Bradley found himself absolutely enamoured of the flush that would stain Colin’s cheeks.

Because it would’ve been cruel to stop there (and Bradley was not a bastard, no matter what Angel said), one day, during a break, when Colin was visiting Bradley in his tiny trailer, Bradley pushed him against a wall. Colin made a startled sound in the back of his throat, but didn’t protest when Bradley kissed him. He tried to pull away, though, when Bradley started undoing the button at his waistband.

‘Bradley, what? You don’t have to- let me go. _Bradley_.’ Colin’s accent nearly warped the words out of recognition when he murmured, ‘Bradley, d- don’t,’ against his mouth, Colin’s whole body belying the words as it pushed into the touch.

To say that the first time was awkward would have been an understatement. Yes, Bradley had done this with a couple of others before, but it had been years ago and neither of them had been Colin. Colin, who’d flattened his hands against the wall and closed his eyes and whimpered as though he was in pain. Colin, whose cock felt strange and not entirely pleasant in Bradley’s hand (Bradley almost regretted it, almost), and whose face went through the most ridiculous expressions as he worked his way to an orgasm. Bradley couldn’t look away, though.

He hadn’t expected Colin to look at him with anger and hurt in his eyes, afterwards, voice barely controlled as he snapped, ‘Do you not understand the word ‘no,’ Bradley?’ which Bradley thought was wholly unfair, given what an obvious lie it had been.

Colin didn’t talk to him for an entire week, which left Bradley floundering and feeling a bit resentful, eating two servings at dinner to see if it would help fill up the emptiness in the pit of his stomach. (It didn’t.) He expected Colin to calm down and come talk to him soon. Instead, he seemed to be moving further away, moving _on_ , spending more time with the others, and the sick feeling in Bradley’s belly became more and more constant. Bradley went out nearly every night, always finding people he could rope into coming with him, and laughed and laughed and laughed.

It helped, but only a little.

They hadn’t told anyone about their relationship. It was Bradley who had insisted it was better that way, because he’d thought Colin would break it off soon enough; he’d expected it to be because of the lack of sex, though, not because of… well. Nevertheless, people ended up picking up on the tension between them.

‘What’s the matter, Bradley, lovers’ tiff?’ Katie smirked when she caught Bradley staring at Colin from afar.

‘Yeah,’ Bradley said, because Katie wasn’t being serious, anyway.

‘Aw! Maybe you should buy him flowers to make it up to him. Can’t have Arthur moping over Merlin, now – it would mess up all the lovely chemistry between them on screen.’

‘He’s allergic,’ Bradley said, even though Colin wasn’t. Strangely, it was still easy working with Colin as soon as they were in character – Merlin didn’t seem angry with Arthur, and Bradley relished every scene they had together, even if Colin ignored him when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Of course, because Bradley was Bradley, he went and bought Colin a dozen red roses, attached the most lurid card he could find to them, and deposited the flowers in front of Colin’s door.

It took a whole hour before Colin opened his door to go out, Bradley standing up straight in his room, pretending his heart was not beating painfully against his chest, but in the end, Colin closed his door and continued on his way. Bradley heard the door opening and closing again, about two hours later, and tried to smother himself with a pillow. This was probably why he missed what happened next, and nearly fell off the bed when there was a knock.

He opened the door cautiously to find Colin waving the bright card about.

‘ “Dear Colin, you’ll have to notice me if I rip my heart out and lay it at your feet, creepy love, an admirer?” ’

It was a testament to his acting skills that he only missed a beat before answering. ‘Hm, it’s a shame you came running already. I’ve asked one of the extras how to say “pig’s heart” in French, you know,’ and at Colin’s sceptical look, he added, ‘ _coeur de cochon_. Had a ribbon picked out and everything.’

‘That’s not funny,’ Colin told him, and for a moment Bradley was afraid that he’d somehow, in the middle of it all, forgotten how Colin’s sense of humour worked, but then he noticed the slight tugging at the side of Colin’s mouth.

‘Neither is you pretending to talk about gutting me, _Colin_.’

And then Colin was walking into his room, and Bradley felt something loosen slightly in his chest. Colin sat down, sighing, onto Bradley’s bed, which he decided to count as a win.

‘I haven’t got a clue why you’re angry with me,’ he blurted out, and Colin threw him a look, hands buried in his hair.

Pretty much the last thing he expected was for Colin to say, ‘I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to do that.’

‘I – what?’ He waved his hands about to emphasise just how much they were not on the same page.

Colin sighed again. ‘I’m _sorry_ , all right? I didn’t – I didn’t mean for you to find out or for you to feel as though you weren’t enough or as though you had to do that, or, or – ’

Bradley blinked when he felt a draught where his eyes were open too wide. ‘What if I wanted to – touch you?’ Well, it wasn’t entirely a lie.

‘You don’t like it!’

‘I like you.’ He shrugged and looked away. ‘I liked making you feel good.’

‘Yeah, well…’ Colin snorted softly, before adding, ‘I didn’t like you doing that when I know you’re not into it. It feels – wrong.’

Bradley felt like there was a gap widening between them, and all he could manage was a weak, ‘I didn’t mind,’ and then, again, ‘I like you,’ because it was all he had left to fend with.

Colin swallowed, and said, ‘I like you, too,’ before a small smile curled his lips. ‘I. I think we should maybe try this again?’

Bradley heard the hesitance there, realised Colin was saying it in the spur of the moment, and his conscience clamoured at him to decline. It would be best for both of them: Colin deserved someone who could give him what he wanted, and Bradley, well. It would probably be best for him, too, if he accepted that this wasn’t going to work out as soon as possible. The words refused to come out, though, and in the end, what he said was, ‘Yeah, maybe we should,’ keeping his fingers crossed that he didn’t sound as stupidly hopeful as he had in his own head, because that would just be embarrassing. Bradley was a manly man, after all.

Colin was nothing if not stubborn, though. He spent three weeks giving Bradley only the softest, most careful kisses, no tongue, and although it was exactly what Bradley had always wanted, he found himself missing Colin’s passion, the way he would lose control, sometimes. He no longer ran away after their sessions of kissing and touching, but insisted on sitting with Bradley, and every time Bradley tried to sneak his hand down to Colin’s lap, Colin would bat it away.

Other than that, things were perfect. They got up to no good together, bickered about who got to pick the film they were going to watch, and Bradley showered Colin with perhaps too many casual touches – he’d always liked physical contact, and he’d been deprived of Colin for too long – both of them wearing bright grins when they were together, prompting Katie to laugh, ‘The make up sex was that good, huh?’ to which Bradley replied, ‘Yes, Katie, give my compliments to whoever picked Morgana’s mattress. It’s really very comfortable,’ which, sadly, did not make her blush.

Unfortunately for Colin, he took his newfound dedication to not making Bradley uncomfortable a bit took far, as Bradley found out later. He also found out (from hearsay), that taking a cold shower didn’t quite relieve as much tension as having a wank did. This was how Colin eventually found himself sitting in the back of Bradley’s rented car with a few too many drinks in him (this was not Bradley’s fault, even if Colin had declined anything stronger than grape juice at least three times), and Bradley lazily kissing him. Bradley had missed having Colin completely relaxed, resting up against him, and was fully taking advantage of the situation. At least he was until Colin groaned deeply and the hands that had been rubbing circles into his shoulders buried themselves in his hair, and then Colin was kissing him desperately.

Bradley stilled for a moment before carefully kissing back, stroking Colin’s back in soothing motions. Colin started muttering something between the frantic kisses, pressing his lips all over Bradley’s face while Bradley did his best to hold on, trying to decipher the words, mouth going taut when he realised it was a litany of _sorry, sorry, sorry_.

‘Stop it!’ he snapped, and Colin went absolutely, rigidly still. Bradley couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. ‘Not that, you idiot, stop apologising. You know, I’ve told you, it’s all right. We’re going to do this, and you’re going to enjoy yourself, and I’m going to enjoy watching you enjoy yourself. All right?’ He was still holding on to Colin, too close to see the expression on his face, and he tightened one arm over Colin’s back as he slipped one hand slowly, slowly down. He didn’t want to make the same mistake he had last time, and Colin was still tense beside him. He stopped with his fingertips just barely inside the waistband of Colin’s trousers, and repeated, more quietly, ‘All right?’ He stared at the darkness outside with the feel of Colin’s breath against his neck as he waited, waited, until finally he could feel the imperceptible nod against his cheek – he suspected Colin wanted to give him the possibility of pretending not to feel it, but Bradley was having none of that.

Colin’s skin was hot and soft against his fingers, and he could hear his breath hitch when Bradley’s hand closed around his cock. It was even clumsier than last time, Bradley’s hand just shoved down Colin’s pants, extra careful to steer clear of the zipper. It didn’t seem to matter to Colin: in no time whatsoever, he was shaking, his fingers not quite relaxed in Bradley’s hair, and Bradley thought he might be trying not to breathe, too, judging by the puffs of breath tickling his skin at intervals too far between, each of them accompanied by half-swallowed groans.

‘It’s OK, Colin. It’s OK, come on,’ he said as he pulled his cheek away from Colin’s, curious to see the look on his face. And there it was again: that oddly twisted expression, almost painful, except that one of Colin’s dislodged hands was now holding onto Bradley’s shoulder as though it were a lifeboat. Bradley had wondered, before, what it must feel like, had even tried jerking off a couple of times, finding the whole thing rather more of a fuss than it was worth, but now, with Colin desperate next to him, he wished more than ever that he could understand. The thing was, though, before, with the other boys, he’d been horrified, not getting why anyone would even want to do such a thing, repulsed by the inherent lack of control and the messiness, but in this moment, all he wanted to do was hold Colin, soothe him, give him whatever it was he needed to get through this, to get what he needed.

Right before his orgasm hit, Colin turned his face away, as though embarrassed, before spilling all over himself and Bradley’s hand. And all right, this was one of the parts where Bradley usually had to fight to hide his disgust, although right now it was counterbalanced by how much he wanted to see Colin’s face. When he finally turned back around, Bradley couldn’t read his expression in the dark, for a moment, until a grin broke out, more subdued than Merlin’s grin, but with its own kind of insanity.

They’ve had to take a few hurdles since then, and sometimes, Colin just makes a point out of being difficult. But, somehow, they got here, with Bradley touching Colin in a hotel room in Italy – their first real holiday together. They’ve had a fabulous day mucking about on the beach, building a sand-castle that might have looked like Pierrefonds if you squinted (a lot), eating ice creams that Bradley swore were the size of the tower of Pisa, and just generally being lazy in the heat (except for the bit where Bradley tried to drown Colin in the sea, to which Colin retaliated by pouring a half-melted ice lolly all over Bradley’s back while he was sleeping on the sand. Bradley certainly did not yelp like a girl), and yeah, Bradley kind of likes that the day ends like this; has learned to read Colin’s want and need better than any script, and loves to give him this.

It doesn’t make him feel strange anymore to rub his thumb over the head of Colin’s cock, spreading the pre-come there, and Colin doesn’t hold back the moan that falls from his mouth, just because Bradley asked him not to. It still makes Colin uncomfortable, he can tell, and he suspects Colin’s cheeks are sometimes flushed with more than just arousal; and maybe, maybe it gives Bradley a little thrill to see this, to know that it’s not enough to make Colin ask him to stop, or even to turn his head away.

He kisses Colin, then, fully expecting the enthusiastic response, and it makes him smile. When he pulls back, he nuzzles the side of Colin’s neck – he likes it there, likes the way Colin smells, like warmth and home and _his_ , prompting Colin to rasp, ‘God, Bradley…’ He’s found Colin really isn’t at his most eloquent like this, and it makes Bradley’s smile turn wicked, makes him want to find more ways to make Colin come apart. Bradley will tease him about it later, frank about this in a way Colin isn’t, but not right now.

He thinks about it sometimes, what he could do to make it better; he bought a whole series of lube bottles, testing the texture between his fingers, testing the ones he liked best on Colin, to see which one would make the slide of his hand the smoothest. (It would have been worth it for Colin’s embarrassed squawk alone.) He’s thought, too, about maybe putting his mouth there, but the idea really doesn’t appeal, so he doesn’t. He’s been thinking about something else, though, something that doesn’t seem too difficult, and he’s been waiting for just the right moment.

He looks at Colin, at the tight expression on his face which Bradley knows means he’s close, and fondly kisses his cheek before moving his hand down. Colin whines in protest at the loss of contact, but isn’t surprised when Bradley’s fingers skim over his balls – Bradley knows Colin likes that – only realising what’s going on when fingers brush over his entrance. He almost pulls away in surprise, but Bradley’s holding him, meeting Colin’s wide-eyed stare.

‘Bradley – look – it’s – it’s fine – you don’t – ’

‘Afraid you can’t take it, Morgan?’ Bradley smirks, and grabs the lube bottle, as if to make a point, getting the stuff all over the sheets and Colin. He makes a note to turn the sign for their room to be made up later, and hopes this includes changing the bedding.

He presses his fingers in, one at a time, as gently as he knows how, letting Colin set the rhythm. If he was laughing earlier, he isn’t now, not with the way Colin’s half-lidded eyes are looking at him with wonder, one of his hands almost reverently curled around Bradley’s neck. It’s obvious Colin likes this; Bradley can feel him trembling all along his own body, and he’s gone absolutely quiet aside from the sounds of his hitched breathing. He doesn’t look away from Bradley for the longest time, and Bradley’s breath is caught in his chest at everything Colin’s letting him see.

When it gets too much, Colin curls his own hand around his cock, jerking himself roughly. The sounds that finally break free from his throat make gooseflesh break out all over Bradley’s body and he wants to say _shh, shh, it’s all right_ , but then Colin’s already coming all over himself. Bradley’s a bit shocked, but he’s already moving to get a cloth to clean Colin up – no matter how far he’s come, he still prefers to get the mess out of the way as soon as possible.

He wipes the warm towel gently over Colin’s skin, and is distracted by the soft, soft look in Colin’s eyes. Usually, there would be some feeling of awkwardness on Colin’s part by now, which they both happily cover up with banter, but it seems this time he’s too far gone to be embarrassed. Bradley takes his own trousers off before climbing into bed, and they rearrange themselves to fit into the same space. This is Bradley’s favourite part, Colin warm and close and unguarded in his arms, radiating satisfaction, and he relishes it every time. Tomorrow, Colin will feel the need to repay him in some way, fetch his breakfast or carry his towel or something equally ridiculous even though Bradley keeps telling him it’s not necessary, but for now he can have this. His fingers arrange themselves along the curve of Colin’s ribs as though they’ve never known anything else, and Colin curls into him until they fit, his hair soft against Bradley’s cheek. And this, this is exactly what Bradley wants, what he needs, and it’s more than enough; he feels the beat of Colin’s heart against his chest, breathes in until all he can smell is Colin, and he really can’t stop the happy grin curling his mouth as he pulls Colin in tight.


End file.
